


A Spring Clean - Part Two

by ladygrange



Series: Scotland '71 [2]
Category: Jimmy Page - Fandom, Led Zeppelin, classic rock - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 18:27:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16351850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladygrange/pseuds/ladygrange





	A Spring Clean - Part Two

She’s engrossed in the fourth box, each trip to the kitchen cabinets more and more satisfying. Jimmy watches her at the table, wolfing down poached eggs and sausage, a curious look on his face. That changes when she catches her toe on a particularly heavy box, hopping around on one foot and clutching the other. His fork clatters to the plate and he helps her to a chair with a disapproving look.

“One of these days you’ll break something, darling,” he warns. 

She steals a bite from his plate and grins. “True, but your house will look spectacular.”

“Speaking of houses,” Jimmy says, spearing the final bite from her. “The ferry is due soon for Urquhart.”

“We still have time.”

He picks up her wrist and turns her watch towards him. “Five minutes. Be quick.”

She’s about to tell him that she’s always quick but the phone rings, pulling them out of their stare down. Jimmy releases her arm and she goes to answer. A familiar nasal tone scrubs through the earpiece.

“I tried the house four bloody times before I realized you two had left.”

She reaches over the counter for a wayward whisk and loops her pinky through, rolling her eyes at his tone. “Don’t you have things to do? Other than interrupting our vacation.”

“Wouldn’t call that a vacation,” Robert says laconically. “You’ve only gone up the country a bit. That’s beside the point, put Jimmy on.”

Jimmy closes in on her and kisses her neck, whispering in her other ear, “Who is it?”

Robert has grown impatient and clears his throat into the phone. “Listen, he’ll love this. I’ve found some of that trance music we talked about in Wales. Heavy stuff but I knew he’d want to know about it-”

“How?” She cuts in. “How did you even get this number?”

“I have my ways,” Robert says dismissively. “And there might’ve been some snooping. Listen, I-”

Jimmy plucks the whisk from her pinky and snatches the receiver from her grasp, ignoring her annoyed look.

“Get ready,” he whispers, still listening to Robert’s chatter. “I’ll only be a second.”

She leaves Jimmy to it, smiling at his long-suffering sigh, likely the cause of a bad joke. By the time she washes up and changes, she finds Jimmy standing sentinel at the front door with a large bag slung over his shoulder.

“You’re excited, my darling?” he asks, taking her hand and leading them out. She admires his diamond-patterned pants and nods. 

“Very much. What else did Robert want?”

“The usual, plans for India and maybe some of Asia.” Jimmy shoves the bag into the waiting car and hustles her inside. “You know, wanderlust and all of that.”

He breaks off to give the driver their destination and settles in with her, although his knee bounces rhythmically. The loch opens up before them, glistening in the sunlight and racing parallel to the road. Jimmy plays idly with her fingers and tells folktales of the water, recounting the fantastic and amusing with a single-mindedness she associates only with him. A large, ancient ferry rocks near the dock and Jimmy guides her up the gangway.

“According to this we’re only journeying across the water,” she says, distracted in her map as they walk.

An announcement comes overhead, garbled and in a thick brogue. She looks to Jimmy in confusion.

“Did you get that?”

“Not a word. Their sound system needs work-” Another short speech comes through and Jimmy shrugs. “Shouldn’t be too essential.”

She clucks her tongue. “You’re awfully cavalier this morning. It’s very suspicious.”

Jimmy chuckles and pulls her towards the front where the sun glints off the railing. “Nothing to be suspicious of, my darling. I think my expertise could get us to the castle without much assistance.”

“Liar,” she reproaches him. “Your expertise begins and ends in Epsom. Thank god for the captain.”

In return, he swats her bottom. “Watch it.”

The brash sound of a horn interrupts them and with an uncertain lurch, the craft takes off. She turns from the railing and watches the small crowd drifting casually around, the sunshine gives a lazy glimmer to the surroundings. Her attention returns to Jimmy and she ties her hair back as they gain speed. He’s leaning cautiously over the railing, his button-down held in precariously by his waistband, billowing slightly in the wind. She tugs him by the sleeve. 

“You’re going to fall in if you’re not careful. That railing looks like it won’t hold.”

He turns around with a smile. “There’s no reason to think it wouldn’t. You’re being paranoid, not unusual. Don’t give me that look.” He elbows her. “It’s a view, darling. Enjoy it.”

She doesn’t have time to argue more as the ferry docks at the shore. Picturesque ruin crumbles before them, perched on a cliffside with people milling around the remains of the castle. She unfolds another map while they walk over the drawbridge and attempts to guide them. A stony floor plan emerges from the long-destroyed walls and ceilings. Half staircases wind precariously to nowhere but blue sky and faded signage warns against loose gravel; which Jimmy raises his eyebrows at and steers her by the elbow. 

“We should be nearing the great hall.” She points to the hollowed shell of a fireplace. “I think all of Pangbourne could fit there.”

Jimmy releases her to stand on the hearth. “Fitting for a place so cold and drafty. They had to host people as well, you know.”

She hums in agreement. “You would know, being a renowned socialite yourself.”

“It’s the private life, my darling. Much preferable to the public one.”

“Yes,” she agrees. “Very much so.”

The uneven floors and broken masonry provide a challenge when they pass through a vaulted room. Only half the ceiling holds, the rest of the chapel sustained with metal rods. Jimmy winds around them to the vestiges of an altar and hunches down to inspect the intricate designs in the stone. She comes up behind him and runs a hand through his curls.

“Thinking of joining the clergy, Jimmy?”

He grins and stands, careful to avoid the low ceiling. “I think, given the historical circumstance, that I could be a man of the cloth. The ascetics were an honorable bunch, darling.”

“You mean to say you’d give up everything for the life of a recluse.”

Jimmy rummages through his bag and pulls out the camera, eyeing her. “Not everything, no.”

She takes the camera from his hands and expertly loads the film. “Glad to hear it.”

She hands it back and Jimmy snaps various shots of the surroundings. By the time they’ve toured around half the castle he’s exhausted the film, reminding her that each image will be a candidate for their wall at home; including a series of candids he managed to sneak of her. Her head buried in the map, she finally leads them around to her desired spot. The destination brings a smile to her face and a look of confusion to his. She pats the smooth remains of an oven. 

“I think this suits me, the kitchens. I could spend my life with loaves and fishes.” She tests her weight on the surface and sits gently. “What do you think?”

Jimmy walks around the space thoughtfully. “You’d spend your life practically melting, darling. But I suppose it does fit your skillset, and it’s close to the chapel.”

“You’re suggesting something?”

“We’d fall into tawdry romance,” he muses. “Me the devout monk and you the scullery maid.”

“How you could incriminate me in such an affair is shocking, Jimmy.” 

He pulls her close, pressing her against the stone wall. “Is that so? Shall we test it right now, then?”

She walks her fingers to his collar and runs them through his beard. His gaze lowers to her lips and her eyelids droop. She brings her lips close and pecks his nose. 

“I think I’ll take my chances elsewhere.”

With that, she wriggles to freedom and beckons him through an arched passageway. Jimmy shakes his head and stands in the center. 

“A kiss first. Call it your dues.”

She laughs, “I think I’ve paid more than enough of those. Especially after last night.”

“I took care of you, didn’t I?” Jimmy says, twining their fingers once more. 

“Yes,” she says. “But now you’re going to that tower with me and you’re not going to complain about the stairs either.”

Jimmy obeys, if only to watch as she bounds up the steps to the stunning view. She turns around victoriously and he grins. They’re perched on the banks of Loch Ness, overlooking the broad expanse of water skirted by trees. The wind has died down and they stand alone at the tower. She peers over the edge of the protective railing, one hand clutching Jimmy’s arm. He folds her up securely and kisses her cheek.

“I’ve got you, my darling.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a place,” she says, straightening. “It’s another world.”

He nods and points to the rim of the horizon and its abundant glory. “It’s the springtime,” he says, by way of an explanation. “That only pretty ring time.” 

She shifts to give him a nonplussed look but her attention is diverted. A group of kids, no older than their teens, are clustered against the opposite wall and gesturing furtively to Jimmy. She decides to ignore his comment and nods her chin to the group.

“I think you have some admirers.” 

The moment Jimmy turns around they immediately look away. Too late, Jimmy chuckles and walks over, much to the shock of one child, whose face grows red. She watches the ensuing autographs and handshakes with a smile, each kid clearly elated. Jimmy returns looking satisfied.

“Known in the highlands,” he says happily. “What an accomplishment.” 

She taps her forefinger against her chin. “The Outer Hebrides would do nicely for the next round of shows, wouldn’t they? That is, if you can find them.”

“My directional intuition could get us far, my darling. Never doubt it.” 

“I don’t,” she promises with mock solemnity. “Point the way towards lunch.”

They wander outside Urquhart with salt and vinegar on their fingers, the day’s walking and sightseeing making their pace languid and meandering. Through the tall, swaying grass they walk, the stalks rippling across the landscape to faraway mountains. Jimmy shortens his stride to accommodate her fascination, which she assures him is in the pursuit of the ideal resting spot. Nearby, water laps gently at the banks of the loch and the promise of a relaxation entices them. She rests her head against his shoulder and embraces the absence of deadlines or timetables. But it’s not long before Jimmy mentions the upcoming tour of the clubs, his anticipation laced with nerves. 

“We’ve wanted to revisit them for so long,” he says. “I keep wondering what will go wrong.”

“I’m the last person to tell you not to worry,” she says, skipping over a puddle. “But the band has never played better. The gigs so far prove that.” He nods, distracted and obviously replaying his own mistakes. She stops short. “Jimmy.” He meets her eyes and she grasps his chin to level her stare. “It will be good. Don’t doubt.”

“Emm-”

She throws her palm over his mouth, only dropping it when a smile forms. “Say it back.”

Jimmy shakes his head, still smiling. “It will be good.”

She leans in for a kiss, parting her lips for him. Jimmy sinks his hands into her hair, unraveling the minute into endless, wet kisses. She breaks off and presses a kiss against his cheek. 

“Good.”

Jimmy watches her wade into the water, holding her shoes. Her hair has fallen and curls loosely down her back. A smile, shining against her pink cheeks, observes him while he settles on a flat rock. He can’t help but admire her joy.

“Is it cold, darling?” 

“Not so much,” she says. “You want to take a dip?”

He shakes his head. “I think I’ll stay dry at the moment.”

She finishes tucking the flowing end of her skirt into her waistband and walks until the water reaches her calves. Resting her hands on her hips, she turns around slowly, the panorama causing a rush of gratitude. 

“Remind me why we’ve never come here before?”

Jimmy shades his eyes and waves her over. “Not a clue, darling. Sit down and I’ll hypothesize.”

She takes her shoes back and pulls him up. “Come on, lazy man. I like the look of that shade over there.”

He stops her, bent before him, to catch her lips. The contact sweetens in her chest and travels with his hands cupping her cheeks. 

“Jimmy,” she murmurs against him. “Not here.”

Under the trees they duck, disturbing chattering swallows from their branches, to find a small grove. Insulated there, Jimmy urges her to the dense grass. He dollops kisses along her neck while his nimble fingers unbutton her shirt to expose the swells of her breasts. A sigh echoes around them when his teeth graze the vulnerable skin and close around one hardened crest. Pleasure slinks down her belly, between her thighs and she tightens them around his torso. Jimmy hums in approval and reaches for his zipper. 

Instead of the urgent thrust she expects, his hand searches beneath her underwear for the damp crease between her thighs. A sharp cry leaves her and Jimmy immediately meets her mouth. He hushes her with kisses, subduing the quick jerk of her hips with his weight. Confined between Jimmy and the ground, she latches onto him and succumbs to his hand, manipulating her until the rush spreads outward. Lush and tender, her legs shake around his waist as she comes.

Jimmy raises himself above her, ample fabric ruched between them and allowing him a maddening distance from her. He returns his mouth to her nipples, his beard rubbing the sensitive undersides. It’s not enough. Rolling, wanting, she digs her heels into his lower back and when he finally positions himself she cries out. The initial push has her eyes drifting shut and her head lolling to the side at the heady fullness. Jimmy leans down to whisper at her ear.

“Are you going to come for me again, darling?” he breathes, delivering a shallow thrust with his words.

She grabs his hair and offers her hips upward in response. Jimmy only bears her firmly into the ground and keeps the slick rhythm, letting her feel the parting momentum, the deliberate stretch, and the heavy flush rising up her neck. He brings his thumb to circle her clit, pitching her into a release more violent than he intended. Her eyes flash open, wide and dazed, when it washes over her in a brilliant wave. Her vision refocuses at Jimmy’s breathing. 

His lips are a plump distraction, the bottom curve glossy from their kiss and noticeably bright against his dark beard. Slowly, it spreads into a self-satisfied smile, verging on arrogance. Arrogance she’s determined to break. She commits that face to memory before snagging his hand. A soft grunt falls from him when she kisses the roughened tips and his hips jerk when she swirls her tongue around them. His thumb sinks into her mouth and she eagerly sucks. Groaning in approval, his rhythm turns urgent and he falls against her body. 

The act consumes and collapses into the bent of longing turned ferocious. His lips pull back and he lets his fingers slide from her mouth to encircle her throat. Furtive, hungry kisses abbreviate his punishing movements. She clutches his forearm, pressing her fingers into the brutal tension there. In the space of a quick second, Jimmy breaks away and notches his head at her shoulder, his groan vibrating down to her fingertips. 

There’s complete stillness in the wood, no breezy hum or hard movement. Even the swallows have gone quiet. Only the clouds above them wheel in slow motion. She recognizes the calm before a spring shower, where the leaves tremble and the wind cools down. Jimmy nuzzles her neck and leads kisses up to her cheek, cupping her jaw in his palm.

“My darling,” he murmurs, his eyes betraying surprising gravity. “I -” A fat droplet splashes across the bridge of her nose. He wipes it away and looks to the sky. A few more drops land on his shoulders and fall between them. “I think we’re under attack.”

Rainfall wets their hair and clothes as they rush back to shelter. The ferry waits, bobbing gently in the loch, with fewer passengers than before. Jimmy wraps his arms around her and kisses the dampness from her neck. She tilts her head and scans the diminishing landscape through the sheets of water falling before them.

“Maybe we can come back here?” she says, almost to herself.

He pulls her to a nearby bench and nods. “Anytime you like. How about a bath? Then we’ll search for the tunnel, supposedly it connects the house to the cemetery.”

She chuckles and listens to him talk, eyes squinted against the returning sun. His animated voice narrates them back to the opposite shore and into a warm cab. She rests in the crook of his arm and does her best not to fall asleep completely. Eventually, the door thrown open, Jimmy nudges her out.

“Now who’s lazy, darling,” he admonishes fondly as she totters to the door. “I thought you had grand plans for dinner.”

She suppresses a yawn and watches him unlock the door. “My morning self was very ambitious. Put the kettle on and I’ll see what I can do.”

A handful of minutes later and Jimmy sits in a nearby chair, rifling through one of the books she packed, while she fixes dinner. Every now and then, a distant roll of thunder intrudes on the comforting sounds of a kitchen in use. She’s reminded of a later time, no less than a year ago in Wales, when they’d been at ease, without worry. Jimmy takes his plate with one eye still on the page, immersed in the subject. Only when she sits beside him does he snap it closed.

“I think we should go for a hike tomorrow,” he says after a bite. “The mountains towards the back look promising. What do you think?”

“I think we’ll have to dust down your camper shoes,” she says. Atrocious shoes, but practical. “Any other plans? Everest? The Appalachian trail?”

Jimmy shakes his head. “You mock, darling, but who knows what we could find. Historical relics, spiritual enlightenment, untold riches,” he breaks off with a smile. “That sort of thing.”

“Alright,” she agrees softly. “Anything else in mind?”

A familiar glint shines in his eyes as he takes their plates away then draws her to the inviting sofa in the drawing room. Lulled by his cadence, the return of the rain, and an indefinable sensation of happy sleep, she almost surrenders to it. Dusk arrives and the fog rolls in when she finally tugs Jimmy to bed. They pass the piano and he almost convinces her to play but she’s not at her dextrous best. She can’t keep her eyes open any longer but she does promise to play for him. Jimmy murmurs something more but she’s already drifting.

She sits almost completely still, her posture direct, her fingers lifting neatly from the keys. The tune is easy and calm and doesn’t disturb the near darkness of the drawing room. Her foot depresses the pedal and she hums along, bad form, she knows, but a habit she never could break. She guides the melody around but stops at his soft knock, one wayward finger sliding onto a dissonant note. She corrects easily and listens to him walk over. His hand rests on her shoulder and his voice barely breaks through.

“Can I sit?” 

She nods, content to keep quiet as he situates himself on the bench with a slight creak. Jimmy is warm from sleep and his ratty, black sweatshirt with holes of varying sizes adorning the neckline. She savors his sturdy presence beside her and the way his arm curls around her waist, pulling her closer to his side. It’s not enough to disrupt her concentration but when his hand sneaks up to her arm she raises a brow at him. 

He travels the length from her elbow to her fingers then back again. She doesn’t think too much about his actions, assuming he’s immersed in his usual study. The kind that result in scuffles or teasing or intensity. She watches for the next chord but jumps slightly when his hand curves under her breast. The notes ring out solitary in the room and Jimmy stops at her navel. 

“Go on,” he murmurs. “To the end.”

The end isn’t really the end. She draws it out just to savor his calloused fingers seeking bare skin. She lingers at the repeat while Jimmy inches his hand under her waistband. Her legs open to accommodate him and the minor chord accompanies the snug slide between her thighs. A low pulse revolves around her, his fingers rubbing slow circles that mirror her pace. 

He stirs her hair with his question. “Why is this your favorite?”

Left hand goes over right and Jimmy continues his journey, parting her for a supple bundle of nerves. She wants to say that’s her favorite but she knows he’s looking for something else. So she reaches a trill and answers him.

“It’s unassuming,” she replies, voice almost hidden under the piano. “At least at first. Then the build.” 

Jimmy urges her on with insistent swirls of his fingertips, earning a hard intake when he finds the compromise between friction and pressure. Wetness slicks his fingers and her clit swells under the firm contact. Attention split, she tries to regroup on the keyboard and return to the stable pace she had before.

“I like the dissonance,” she says, angling herself closer while still attempting the composition. “It moves, just not in the usual way.”

“The usual way?”

Goosebumps spread across her skin and the tempo wavers, lilting out of pace from Jimmy’s strokes. The delicious ache forming beneath his touch grows into a distraction that keeps her from accuracy. She bites her lip, a delicate cascade of notes fading as quickly as they came.

She shakes her head. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Try.”

She squints at the keyboard and reaches the final coda as Jimmy slides his fingers away from her then back once more, repeating the motion alongside her playing. Her heart beats slow and sluggish, pulsing in time with the throb of a climax just beyond reach. She licks her lips and takes a breath.

“There’s something delicate in it, simple,” she pauses at the flutter of release. “I don’t know exactly...” 

“Tell me,” he urges, hitting the perfect spot with decimating precision. The tension inside builds with her crescendo but all she can hear is the soft imprecation of his voice. “Tell me, my darling.”

Her hands slip from the keys. “Jimmy...”

Ecstasy interrupts her. Each jolt of pleasure renders her boneless against him. Her neck gives out and she rests on his shoulder, eyes shut and lips parted as he gathers up the last pulses with his fingers. Her eyes flutter open briefly when Jimmy kisses the arched line of her throat then settle closed. Safety lives in the long minute where she unwinds into the warm cotton at her cheek and her heart settling down. Jimmy raises his shoulder and jostles her head, prompting a little smile from her.

“You liked it?” she asks.

He nuzzles her hair and nods. “Always do.”

Silence falls around them, unburdened by the rattle she’d heard from the fridge earlier. They’re in no hurry to get up from the hard bench, even when she presses her cold toes against his exposed ankle. Jimmy traps both her legs between his own and she thinks his lips press to her head. 

“Thank you,” he says, voice almost unintelligible.

She takes a moment to switch gears and shifts against him. “For what?”

Jimmy pulls away just enough to catch her gaze. “For coming here. Being with me.”

She situates herself closer to him and smoothes out the rumple in his sweatshirt, searching for her response. For the perfect grouping of words to return to him. It comes speechless, in form instead of phrase. She takes his face in both hands and he supports her neck through the kiss. In the openmouthed meeting, she knows there is no expression, no accuracy good enough at her disposal. But meaning isn’t lost in his slow blink after they break the kiss, or the half smile that curves his lips. She slides her palm through his beard to rub her thumb under his eye, relishing the well-rested fullness there. 

“You’re welcome.”


End file.
